"What would you like to do?" I asked.
It was a cloudy Thursday morning, good for any number of, "indoor," activities, but I was saving that for later.
"You decide. I'm in the mood for whatever you'd like to do," Beth answered.
While driving into the city, lots more options there, I glanced at her and saw her smiling. It was a cute smile, not a smirk, something she was thinking amusing her.
"What?" I asked.
"What what?" she responded.
"You were smiling..., and I wondered what was making you smile."
"Maybe I'm just a happy person," she answered, smiling even more.
"Or...?"
"I was just thinking how much I love the taste of cum."
Not quite the answer I'd expected.
"Is this something you've just discovered or are you expressing a long held conviction?"
Now she laughed, "It's something I've just discovered. There's something about the way a man reacts when he's about to cum in my mouth. The way his body tenses, his breathing, the sounds he makes, the way he uses his hands. All men do the same things, but they all do them differently..., and their cum tastes different too"
Shaking my head I asked, "And do you now consider yourself a connoisseur of that particular cuisine?"
"Ummm, yeah, I guess I do."
"And what are you basing this opinion on? I'm wondering the size of your sample group?"
"Size? They're all about the same size, but Harold was the thickest."
Now I laughed, "Too much information! No, I meant, how many men have you tasted? If you consider yourself a connoisseur of men's semen, you must have savored gallons and gallons of the goop."
Still smiling, but now looking out the windshield..., thinking.
"There have been seven. My first boyfriend in high school, a guy in college, my husband, you, David and Harold. I like the taste of yours the best."
"Thank you," I replied, "but that's only six."
"It is...?" Her smile disappeared, a vague look on her face, and then a shrug, "Okay, it's only six."
"Not a large sample."
Now a very devious smile, "I'm hoping..., no planning, on getting larger samples,"
And that solidified my decision on what to do.
I'd driven past a large Adult Video store one day when I was detoured off the highway because of a truck rollover. I remembered there were displays of clothing and other paraphernalia in the windows, so I thought that it might make an interesting destination.
Getting there was easy, but finding a parking space wasn't, both upper and lower lots full. Luckily, there was a deserted gas station adjacent and we parked there.
Beth had chosen her denim micro mini skirt, spaghetti strapped tank top with oversized arm holes that fell to her waist, displaying an overabundance of side and front boob, as her wardrobe selection. A pair of cork sole high heeled wedges adding four inches to her height.
She wasn't wearing anything else.
The main entrance to the store was on the other side of the building, the door on our side up two flights of metal stairs. As we were walking up, a customer was walking down, stepping aside to let us pass. By the look on his face I knew what was going to happen next, and he didn't disappoint.
He let Beth get another six or eight steps higher and then he turned and looked up.
She didn't disappoint either.
His wide eyed, "YES!" the reward for his foresight.
Once inside, we found ourselves in the magazine section, hundreds of covers offering every manner and form of depravity. Three or four guys were skimming the selections, looking for something to get themselves off.
I kept Beth walking.
Next was a large selection of clothing and lingerie. There were a number of racks displaying the many styles and colors, but most were in boxes on shelves, with a few displayed on the walls and on headless mannequins. We had spent some time looking through the assortment, when I noticed that she had a peculiar habit. Each time she would look at merchandise that was on a lower shelf, she would bend at the waist to retrieve it, rather than squat. When she did this, her skirt would ride up and her entire ass and crotch would be exposed. Adding to the fun, if she was facing me, her entire chest would be revealed whenever she bent forward, her tank top so loose fitting.
Believe me, while she may have made a beginning as an exhibitionist, she had no idea that she was displaying herself when she moved this way, blissfully unaware of her performance. Since I'd noticed, I had no doubt that any other man watching her would immediately observe the same thing.
After looking through the clothing selection, she chose a couple of things that she wanted to model.
Walking to the checkout counter, she was told that they didn't have dressing rooms. However, she was free to use the Ladies Room if she wished.
The Ladies Room was next to the Men's Room, in a narrow hallway. As I waited for her, a man navigated around me in the cramped hallway to use the facilities. He was tall, well built, but very young looking. He had long blond hair tied in a pony tail and a matching color untrimmed beard and mustache. Wearing jeans, a white tank top and cowboy boots, he looked a little out of place for New England in August.
Beth opened the door a moment later wearing a tiny red dress. I'm using the term, "dress," very loosely here, the garment really a yard or so of red fishnet material that tied around her neck and covered as much as a couple of hundred square inches of fishnet could cover her, which was not at all.
She'd left the matching g-string in the bathroom.
"Very nice," I told her, "but..., would you wear that?"
"I'd guess I could wear it to the strip club," she responded, "or in the yard if I saw David watching."
We both laughed at that.
Right about then, the kid walked out the men's room. As he started to walk behind me, he saw Beth and she saw him. I couldn't see his reaction, because he was behind me to my left.
Beth lit up like a Christmas tree!
